


Mariko

by Infy



Category: Samurai Warriors
Genre: Blood, Child Death, F/M, Sexual Content, i promise this is not an oc fic even though it looks like one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-02
Updated: 2015-03-07
Packaged: 2018-03-16 00:41:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 13
Words: 18,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3467990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Infy/pseuds/Infy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Motherhood suits you, I think,” Muneshige cooed, placing a gentle kiss on her cheek. It took a moment for his wife to smile at the thought of holding her own child like this, having him sleep as comfortably in her arms as the child they had rescued was, but once she did, Muneshige let out a chuckle. “It seems you share the sentiment.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Rescue

The wind howled against the stalks of the sweeping rice fields, hung low in a mist of fog throughout the forests and villages of Bungo Province as the rain and hail fell in splashes on the soil and the booming thunder shook the clouds themselves. While men and women scurried indoors, there were only two, it seemed, who appeared content in staying outdoors in the storm, ushering villagers into their homes and helping to rein horses into their stables-- the Lord and Lady Tachibana themselves. It was said that in the Tachibana house, those loyal to the clan are treated like family, and the same held true for those who lived on their lands; as far as the Tachibana were concerned, ensuring everyone's safety was a duty not to be taken lightly. A clap of thunder and a horse began to rear, and Ginchiyo and two other men attempted to restrain it, guiding it into its stable. Muneshige rushed after a woman headed towards a small gathering of houses, a young child in his arms that he was shielding from the hail. Chaos, for a brief moment, seemed to erupt and spread like a fire over Bungo Province, and after roughly an hour of ensuring everyone's safety, Ginchiyo scanned the village before taking a breath. “Is that everyone?”

Muneshige tossed a wet lock of hair out of his face. “It seems that way--” he began, before a sound caught his ear. “... Did you hear that...?” he asked, glancing in his wife's direction. She remained silent for a moment, listening intently to what sounded like muffled wails, stifled by the wind and rain and the sound of hail bouncing off of houses and pathways. Though the sound was tinny and muted and somewhat far away, Ginchiyo narrowed her eyes, blocking out all other noises, and was able to make out what Muneshige had heard.

“Is that a child...?” Her eyes widened. A child alone in this weather...? A grit of her teeth and she immediately set off. “We must hurry!”

He nodded for a moment before he took quickly behind her. Within a few minutes they were able to find the source of the cries--a girl of no more than seven, huddled into a corner where only a small scaffolding prevented her from direct exposure to the elements. Even so, the girl was scared, barefoot, shivering in the cold, and whimpering. Attempting not to make too much noise, Ginchiyo approached her, kneeling beside her, and held out a hand. “Hey,” she whispered gently, and the girl's head jerked up to see the Lady of Tachibana Castle staring back at her with a gentle smile on her face and an outstretched hand. Immediately the girl grasped hold of it, pulling herself up and into Ginchiyo's arms, still sniffling from her tears and shivering from the cold; she held Ginchiyo tightly, and Ginchiyo carried the girl in a hurry back to the safety and shelter of the castle, Muneshige shielding the both of them from the wind with his body.

By the time they had reached the castle, they were all soaked to the bone. It had been an hour of silence shared between the three of them as they all concentrated on simply returning to the castle. The girl seemed listless, refusing to even remove her cheek from tucked into the crook of Ginchiyo's neck. Ginchiyo set the girl down, and she demurely knelt at her feet in silence as Ginchiyo removed her helm and shook all the excess water from her hair--some of it had happened to land on the girl, but before she could apologize, the girl unexpectedly let out a giggle that brought a smile to Ginchiyo's face. Their eyes met for only a brief moment before Ginchiyo left to bark out a few orders to some of her retainers, and once she was sure the Lady and Lord of the castle were both busy, the girl wiped her eyes and inhaled deeply, her shuddering hiccups eventually giving way to full, even breaths. As the chaos began to die down, so did the fear in the girl's chest, and she began to wait patiently for someone to acknowledge her, twiddling her thumbs as she observed the hustle and bustle of the castle. Finally Muneshige returned from a meeting with two of his retainers, and when he noticed the girl still sitting there patiently, he chuckled, sitting beside the girl as he removed his greaves and boots after a long day's work. “You're a cute one.” It was only then that Ginchiyo had returned as well after ensuring the upkeep of the stables during the storm. She nodded in the girl's direction and flashed her a soft smile. “My name is Muneshige,” he continued, motioning to himself and then to his wife. “And this is my wife, Ginchiyo. What's your name, my dear?”

“Mariko, Lord Muneshige. It's nice to meet you,” The girl replied, a humble smile on her face, and she bowed in Muneshige's direction. Another bow in Ginchiyo's general direction. “You too, Lady Ginchiyo.”

“So polite!” Muneshige exclaimed, a laugh escaping him, and he exchanged a glance with his wife. “Your mother and father must have taught you very well.” Reaching out slightly, he took the girl's hand, placing a light kiss on the top of it, and she giggled. “You are one day going to make some man the luckiest in the world.” He glanced up at Ginchiyo, busying herself with removing her extraneous armor. “Well... second luckiest.”

Mariko let out another giggle. “You're funny, Lord Muneshige.”

Finally having rid herself of her uncomfortable metal garments, Ginchiyo took a seat near Mariko as well. “That is one way to describe it, I suppose.” It wasn't until she had actually bothered to look at the girl that she realized she was staring right back, and had been for a while. “Is everything okay?”

Mariko blushed a little, twiddling her thumbs and smiling. “Well, um... thank you for saving me. I was really scared.” A pause for a brief moment, and Mariko's smile faded, gradually replaced with a quivering frown. “It was so scary...”

“Please, don't worry about it, sweetheart,” Muneshige cooed with a comforting smile, wiping Mariko's eyes with a tall thumb. “We're both just happy that you're safe.”

“Now that you're here with us,” Ginchiyo continued. “I suppose the best thing to do would be to get you some food and a bath, and then try to find your parents. What kind of food do you like, Mariko?”

“My favorite foods are steamed meat buns, Lady Ginchiyo,” Mariko took a breath and smiled demurely, the sight of an orange cat slinking into the room catching her eyes, which promptly lit up at the sight, forgetting any of their past memories of being alone and scared in the storm. Mariko crawled towards the cat, trying not to make too much noise and frighten it. “You have a kitty?” The happy smile on the girl's face as the cat curled up in her lap couldn't help but force Ginchiyo to chuckle. All her attention, the dusting of pink on her cheeks because the cat had acknowledged her, focused on the little animal in her lap that she stroked happily.

And with that, Ginchiyo and Muneshige shared a glance and exchanged knowing smiles. “I think you'll fit in just fine here.” Muneshige chuckled, having finally removed all of his armor. “Mariko, you remind me of Lady Ginchiyo.”

Mariko looked up from the cat at Muneshige and smiled. “My father told me that one day I might be her retainer.” The cat mewled in her lap and rolled over onto its back, and Mariko stroked its belly. Even people who had never met the Lady of the Tachibana clan knew of her affinity for cats. There was even a rumor spreading around Shikoku (potentially started by a devilish and fashionably-questionable woman whom Ginchiyo had since vowed to never tell any more secrets to) that over in Kyushu, the Lady of the Tachibana house staged a retreat during a skirmish with the Shimazu to remove a family of cats from the battlefield. Well, given the Shimazu brothers' own affinity for cats, she assumed it was a good decision. One of the Shimazu's foot soldiers, she'd found, had actually carried a kitten in his arms for her during the retreat before she thanked him, took the kitten, and slayed the man when he tried to attack her afterward. At least he died doing something honorable. Kind of.

“Someone who shares so many of my interests, surely, would make a fine retainer.” Ginchiyo ruffled Mariko's hair. “But, now that you've mentioned it, who is your father?”

“Satou Masakatsu,” Mariko replied, shaking her head to get the hair Ginchiyo had ruffled out of her face. “He makes rice!” She added happily. Mariko was obviously very proud of her father, and it drew a smile and a chuckle from Ginchiyo's lips. “We came to the center of the village because he was delivering a cart full of stuff to sell, and we got separated.”

“Well, when we find your father, I'll be sure to tell him myself how delicious the rice he grows is.” And with that, Ginchiyo cleared her throat and stood. “Now, Mariko, the sun is setting, so would you like to take a bath? We want to make sure you're all clean when you go back to your father.”

“Yes, my Lady.” Mariko stood, gently setting the cat that was sleeping in her lap aside as it let out a cry of protest, and once she got on her feet, she bowed deeply. “Will you stay with me?”

Muneshige and his wife exchanged glances. “I think that would be fine, don't you?” Muneshige smiled, and Ginchiyo sighed.

“I do have a couple things I need to take care of first, but that shouldn't be much of an issue,” Ginchiyo brusquely turned her back, before turning back around and mentioning to Mariko that she'd return shortly as she quickly backpedaled out of the room. And with that, Muneshige laughed.

“She rushes a lot.” Mariko observed.

A raise of his eyebrow and Muneshige smiled. “Yes, but one of the greatest things in life is to have the opportunity to work hard at work worth doing. Ginchiyo understands that. One day you will too, dear.” Another ruffle of Mariko's hair, and another giggle from the little girl.

“You guys do that a lot. No wonder your hair is so messy, Lord Muneshige, Ginchiyo probably ruffles it all the time!”

Muneshige grinned, saving the dirty joke her remark brought to his head for perhaps _after_ Mariko had left. “Oh come now, my dear, you wound me!” He instead put a hand to his chest, feigning shock. “My hair isn't messy, it's just... shaggy.” He ran a hand through it, forgetting exactly how wet it was still, and shook the water off his hand after it was through.

“You should take a bath too, Lord Muneshige.” Mariko smiled, taking Muneshige's hand and helping him to stand up. “You're all mucky and dirty.” And she never let go of that hand, following after Ginchiyo, and towing a laughing Muneshige along with her.

“You really _are_ just like my wife.”


	2. Bathtime

The water in the onsen was calm as the two of them sat quietly, Ginchiyo finally letting out a relaxed sigh. Mariko splashed around in it a little before finally glancing up at Ginchiyo, who had begun putting a mixture of oils and soaps in her hand. “Lady Ginchiyo, how come Lord Muneshige isn't here?”

“Get your hair wet, Mariko.” Ginchiyo replied, conveniently dodging the idea of having to explain to her father that she gave his young daughter 'the talk' while he was gone.  But, of course, as Mariko obeyed and Ginchiyo began washing the girl's hair, the question came up again.

“But Lord Muneshige is all dirty too, and there's room in here, you know.”

“Mm, yes,” Ginchiyo finally sighed, thinking of a lie. “But too much dirt in one bath and soon you'll just be in a swamp. You wouldn't want to take a bath in that, would you?”

Mariko giggled. “No, that'd be silly.”

“Exactly,” Ginchiyo chuckled, pouring a bucketful over both their heads and starting to wash her own hair. “Muneshige just wanted to let us girls have the bath first. Chivalry and all that. Plus, right now, he's getting a few people together to try and find your father.” And at that, a calm serenity pervaded between the two of them until Mariko finally spoke again.

“Lady Ginchiyo, are you a mother?”

Ginchiyo's eyebrow raised, glancing in Mariko's direction for a brief moment until the sudden question registered. With a long inhale, she finally sighed her response. This was uncomfortable territory, but Ginchiyo didn't want Mariko to feel bad. “No, Mariko, I, uh... I'm not. Not yet.”

“Don't you want a baby?” The girl tilted her head. “When I grow up, I want to get married and have a baby. Didn't you want that when you were my age?”

Ginchiyo chuckled. Maybe this was the one way the two of them were different. “Actually, I grew up my whole life wanting to fight for my family name. Now that I'm older, though, and now that I'm married... honestly, I'd love to have a child with Muneshige. B-but unfortunately...” Ginchiyo cleared her throat, instead concentrating on the rising steam from the bath as the deer-chaser struck the stone behind them.

“Unfortunately what?” Mariko probed, leaning in a little closer.

Ginchiyo shook her head, snapping herself out of the daze thinking about this put her in, and explaining herself while she lathered up a cloth with soap. “Well, Mariko, unfortunately, things aren't so simple. You've noticed how hard your father works. See, my work is even harder than that. I just don't have time to keep trying to...” she trailed off for a moment, thinking better of running her mouth any longer, before adding, “I-I don't know how good a mother I would make anyway. My first duty is to make sure people like your father are able to live comfortably here.”

Mariko smiled, her eyes fluttering shut lightly as she leaned back in the bath. “I think you'd be a good mother.”

“...Is that so?” Ginchiyo raised a brow and glanced down at Mariko, using the soapy cloth to wash her back.

Mariko looked up slightly, not quite meeting Ginchiyo's eyes, but she began speaking anyway. “Do you like me, Lady Ginchiyo?”

Ginchiyo was taken aback for a moment, and responded, “Of course I do, Mariko. If I didn't like you, I wouldn't be washing your back.”

“You just said you want to make sure someone you've never even met like my father can live comfortably. So that means you're nice and kind, and you also like kids like me. Isn't that all you need?”

And Ginchiyo gave a chuckle, smiled on the outside, but at that moment had wished with all her heart that that was truly all she needed.


	3. Confirmation

“Ladies...?” Muneshige raised his voice from the other side of the _shouji_ door, catching the girls' attention. “I've got a messenger on the way to your father, Mariko, and once he returns, you'll be on your way home.”

Ginchiyo smiled warmly, glancing down at Mariko, whose eyes danced with excitement. “Hear that? A Tachibana always takes care of business, and don't you ever forget it!”

“Yay! Daddy's coming! Thank you, Lord Muneshige and Lady Ginchiyo!” Mariko cheered, hugging Ginchiyo before Ginchiyo lifted the girl from the bath. Once Ginchiyo had wrapped herself in a towel, she leaned down and dressed the young girl quickly in a thick robe-- Mariko burst through the shouji door, in her excitement, and she leaped down the stairs leading to the baths, running in seemingly endless circles, her arms outstretched in a spurt of joyous laughter.

Muneshige suddenly reached down and scooped the girl up into his arms. “Gotcha!” He gave a hearty laugh, and Mariko broke out into a fit of giggles. Catching Ginchiyo's warm yet still somewhat forced smile out of the corner of his eye, Muneshige gently set Mariko down, but touched her shoulder just as she was about to set off to go explore the castle; she looked up to hear him whisper, “I've got a secret to tell you, Mariko,” and see him kneel down next to her. “I think someone in the kitchen just finished a batch of steamed buns just for us,” he leaned in closely, whispering in her ear. “Why don't you go on ahead and have as many as you like...? I'd like to have a word with Ginchiyo.”

Mariko pursed her lips. “'Bout what?”

“Oh, so many exciting things! The boring business matters come first because all conversations between adults are completely devoid of fun!” Muneshige grinned, waving his hands in feigned excitement. Ginchiyo forced herself to stifle a laugh. “And to top the meeting off, we adults always like to end our back-and-forth with complex mathematics and a study of the complete works of Zhuge Liang on military strategy and tiresome political diatribe.”

The girl groaned, rolling her eyes. “I don't know what most of those words even mean...!”

 “That's why I offered to let you go on ahead and eat some of our castle's steamed buns for dinner first,” Muneshige chuckled, scratching the back of his head absentmindedly. “But since you seem content in sticking around while Ginchiyo and I go over our political matters...”

 “No, no, no!” Mariko waved her hands in front of her and laughed nervously. “It's really okay, I promise, I'll just get in the way. Um... Where's the kitchen?”

 Muneshige laughed again, and cleared his throat. “Hey, Naotsugu?”

 The head of a tall, thin man with messy light brown hair like Muneshige's poked through the entrance to the room. “Muneshige?”

 “Mariko,” Muneshige squatted down to get to the girl's level, and motioned to the shy-looking man facing them. “This is my brother, Tachibana Naotsugu. Naotsugu, this is Satou Mariko. Can you show her to the kitchen?” At Naotsugu's nervous smile and nod, Muneshige scoffed lightheartedly. “Come, now, brother, don't be nervous, she's just a little girl. You're getting a child of your own soon, you should get some practice in talking to children.” Naotsugu rubbed the back of his head, forcing a chuckle at Muneshige's jibe. “Oh, and take a bun for yourself, Naotsugu, your big brother thinks you need to eat more,” added Muneshige with a smile as Naotsugu and Mariko turned to leave, Mariko taking Naotsugu's hand and excitedly running out of the room with Muneshige's poor brother in tow.

 “Right,” sighed Ginchiyo, handing Muneshige a fresh towel. “So, business.”

 “Yes,” Muneshige cleared his throat, picking up the fresh _dobuku sugata_ he'd neatly folded, and started up the couple stairs leading to the baths, motioning for Ginchiyo to follow him in. With a roll of her eyes, and electing to ignore the feeling in her belly warning her that something was about to happen, she obeyed. “Today's storm. I received a report from a scout.”

 “I see,” Ginchiyo began, shutting the _shouji_ door behind them as Muneshige removed his _kosode._ “Were there any damages to the crop yield--” and she was interrupted by her husband's lips crashing into hers. A brief moment where she let out a breath and a confused “mmh..?” before she tugged him closer by his waist, only parting from him after a stretch of nothing but their own breaths commingling together along with the taste of his lips against hers. It was only after a second or two of staring at him that she registered what exactly happened, and she fed him a scowl. “Yeah, sure. Business.”

 “I can't help myself,” Muneshige let out a defeated sigh. “You've just looked so cute all day.”

 Ginchiyo loudly cleared her throat, a dark pink blush fading onto her cheeks. “Have not.”

 “Have too.” He kissed her once again, this one tender and soft, and Ginchiyo gradually fell into it, sucking gently on his bottom lip for a moment before pulling away again.

 “I look the same as I usually do, you vagabond. Nothing has changed beyond a few new cuts and bruises,” she grumbled, not quite realizing that her arms were still wrapped tightly around him. Another short kiss from Muneshige, and soon his lips migrated outward, kissing her cheek, her neck. And as he placed short, small kisses along the curve of her ear, Ginchiyo spoke up once more. “Stop this, now, Muneshige, we're taking care of a child.”

 “Maybe that's what makes you so cute,” Muneshige whispered, nibbling a bit on her earlobe before returning his attention to her lips. His body pressed hers tightly against the wall, and her arms cinched him closer, as he kissed her lips with less passion and fire and more a reverential love. It remained unexpected for Ginchiyo, and she found a part of herself that wanted more of this, the sort of passion that stayed within the bounds of love rather than gave way to lustful desire. His kisses were brief, tender, and he spoke between them, the sound of his voice smooth like silk but rough like a harsh wind. She could only hold him closely and listen. “Seeing you with her makes me want that for us.” He kissed her again, a moment too short until he began to speak again. “I've never seen you smile so much.”

 Ginchiyo's hands trailed up her husband's chest, and her arms wrapped around him at the base of his neck. “Don't you think I know that...?” She furrowed her brow, giving a sigh. “We've tried. So many times, we’ve tried. And nothing ever comes of it.” She wouldn't meet his eyes for a moment, instead staring at his bare chest, scanning the lines of scars scattered over its surface. “It's almost as if there's no point in even trying anymore.”

 “Ginchiyo...” Muneshige sighed, burying his head in the crook of her neck. He didn't kiss her, didn't caress her skin with his hands; he simply stood there, his wife held in his arms, and him in hers, his head resting in her shoulder and his hair being stroked reverentially through her fingers. “So, you want to start a family as much as I do, then...?” He finally spoke, only murmuring it into her neck, but she understood.

 “Yes. It's what I want the most.” She felt her cheeks grow warm as she said it, and she hid her face by burying it in his shoulder. “The Tachibana have no heir, and without one, our bloodline dies with me. I cannot let that happen.”

 “Nor I,” Muneshige murmured, drawing his hand upwards to tangle his fingers in her hair, and after a moment, he let out a breathy laugh.

 “Hm...?” Ginchiyo prompted Muneshige to explain himself, and it was a moment before he found himself able to tear his thoughts away from the comforting sensation of her body pressed up against his.

He finally spoke. “I want a girl who looks just like you.”

Ginchiyo scoffed, still holding him closely to her. “No promises.” She nuzzled her face closer into his, and sighed without so much as another word, content in simply remaining in his arms for a while longer before succumbing to the anxiety the topic of an heir forced upon her.

“Ginchiyo, my dear...?” Muneshige muttered, prompting her to tell him what was on her mind.

“I... want a boy,” she sighed, electing to keep her concerns quiet for now. After a moment's pause, she took a deep breath and continued. “As a woman, it's hard to make people take you seriously when you lead a clan.”

“Then we'll have both,” Muneshige chuckled, raising his head and placing kisses along Ginchiyo's jaw. “You can teach our son to fight, and I'll teach our daughter to sew.”

“You were always good at sewing.” And though Ginchiyo laughed at the irony, the subject itself still managed to tie her stomach in knots.


	4. Dinner

Naotsugu and Mariko had been sitting and chatting now for a few minutes over a couple steamed buns while waiting for Muneshige and Ginchiyo to return from their meeting; the discourse between Muneshige's younger brother and the even younger girl seemed to flow rather seamlessly given Naotsugu's affinity for childlike fantasy, and he'd begun to believe he'd found a casual friend in this little girl in front of him. “Okay, you're at eighteen questions, Mariko...” he murmured, before pausing to let Mariko think for a moment after she stuffed her face with a bun.

“Is it black and white?” She finally piped up, tilting her head to the side.

“N--... ye--... wow, golly, is it...?” Naotsugu raised an eyebrow and placed a finger to his chin in thought.

“Wait, you thought of it and you don't even know what color it is...?”

A blush faded onto Naotsugu's cheeks. “Ah, n-no, I'm sorry...” He shook his head, running a hand back through his hair in his embarrassment. “I mean, I've seen paintings of them being black and white, but also brown and tan... gah, I don't know, I'm sorry...!”

Mariko frowned. “Is it a _tanuki?”_

Immediately Naotsugu's teeth that were only a brief moment ago clenched in embarrassment were bared again in a wide grin. “Well, lookie there, you got it anyway!” Mariko found herself unsurprised when Naotsugu reached over and ruffled her hair; she'd already resigned herself to the assumption that this family has kind of a habit of doing that. Even still she let out a childlike giggle at the touch of his hand on her head, and Naotsugu smiled.

“Y'know, Mariko,” Naotsugu sighed with a light laugh that reminded Mariko of Muneshige's. They really were, physically at least, incredibly similar, right down to the shapes of their noses. “See, I’m gonna be getting a new son or daughter here in a few months, and I was real nervous trying to figure out how I'd be able to speak to them, but now that I've had the chance to chat with you...” He took another bite of his bun, his next words filtering through a full mouth. “Golly, I'm not so nervous anymore,” he swallowed, continuing on with a nervous flutter-like laugh. “If my child is anything like you, gosh, I think we'll get on just fine.”

“That’s good,” Mariko smiled. “Do you think maybe after a couple years I can come back and play with him?”

Naotsugu's laugh got heartier and more genuine. “Haha, sure! If he's anything like his dad, he'd probably get lonely pretty easy, so your company would be welcome.” Finishing up the steamed bun and rising to his feet, Naotsugu added, “Heck, come over to play whenever you want! The kids in the castle need a good influence like you.” With a glance to either side, he added in a low whisper, “all the girls are turning out all rough around the edges like Lady Ginchiyo, and it's kind of a problem.”

“Heard that,” a harsh, feminine voice approached them from the other side of the entrance, and Naotsugu let out an incredibly unmanly squeak of surprise at the sound of Ginchiyo speaking to him. Mariko noticed the moment that Ginchiyo appeared in someone's field of view, if she was holding her husband’s hand, she’d immediately drop it, and Muneshige would always seem unsurprised, albeit a little disappointed. “Naotsugu,” she nodded his direction before adding, “What a fine time to be preaching misogyny to a little girl.”

“N-no, milady, you misunderstand, that's not what I--”

“You're excused.”

A dark blush of embarrassment quickly faded onto Naotsugu's face, and he hung his head slightly, murmuring a rushed “yes, ma'am,” before smiling in Mariko's direction and taking his leave. Muneshige playfully elbowed his brother on his way out, and he let out a slight “ow” as he walked past, but Naotsugu didn't say much of anything after that.

“Don't be mean,” Mariko frowned, puffing her cheeks. “We were just talking.”

Ginchiyo smiled slightly, exchanging glances with her husband. “Don't worry about it, Mariko, we didn't mean any harm. He's used to us being at least a little mean to him, anyway.” Prompted by a small laugh from Mariko, Ginchiyo continued. “How are the buns?”

“Dewicious,” the girl replied through a full mouth, and Muneshige chuckled, taking a seat and a steamed bun for himself.

Through the first bite, he murmured, “It’s taking a bit of time, but my brothers are on their way to your home with the intent of bringing your father back.” Mariko remained silent mostly due to her full mouth, but her eyes were trained on Muneshige as he spoke and handed his wife a steamed bun, to which she shook her head and offered a quiet “not hungry, sorry.”

The girl swallowed. “How long do you think it’ll take?” Mariko tilted her head to the side inquisitively, and Muneshige and Ginchiyo exchanged glances.

Ginchiyo inhaled, exhaling softly in a drawn-out sigh. “It shouldn’t be longer than a couple hours. He should be here just after your bedtime.”

Mariko smiled, rubbing the bridge of her nose with her finger absentmindedly. “I don’t have a bedtime.” When Ginchiyo and Muneshige both exchanged incredulous glances with raised brows, Mariko laughed nervously and added, “Well… an early bedtime.”

Muneshige glanced to the side and leaned in slightly towards the little girl, who leaned in as well to hear him whisper, “I’ll try to keep Ginchiyo from sending you to bed too early. A favor from me. Sounds like a deal…?” And he raised his hand to her, and she slapped it in a high-five.

Ginchiyo scoffed. “Really, now…?” She turned to Mariko with the intent of providing her an exact time that she was supposed to report to the guest quarters, but at the sight of her and Muneshige sharing happy smiles, Ginchiyo suddenly felt her frustration washing away. It had never happened like this before, the sudden change of thought and emotion simply from the sight of her husband acting so…

Fatherly. 

It brought a slight upturn to Ginchiyo’s lips, and she decided finally to not be rude to the chef and reached for the smallest bun left on the plate.


	5. Farewell

It had been a few hours after they had finished dinner for the night that Mariko had fallen completely asleep in Ginchiyo’s arms. The Lord and Lady of the castle had been engaging in political discourse while Mariko played with a wooden doll that Naotsugu had carved and given her—it seemed the conversation was a bit too much for the girl, and eventually she drifted off without either of them noticing until she was completely silent and unmoving, nuzzling her face into Ginchiyo’s shoulder. It brought a smile to Ginchiyo’s lips, and it took a moment for Muneshige to notice before he trailed off his sentence and just simply looked at the two of them together.

 “I’ve never seen you so beautiful, Ginchiyo,” he murmured, and Ginchiyo looked up, half-shocked and completely unsure of how to respond with anything but a heavy blush on her cheeks.

 “B-beautiful…?” She stammered, looking the other direction but still not loosening her hold on the little girl in her arms.

 “Motherhood suits you, I think,” Muneshige cooed, placing a gentle kiss on her cheek. It took a moment for his wife to smile at the thought of holding her own child like this, having him sleep as comfortably in her arms as Mariko was, but once she did, Muneshige let out a chuckle. “It seems you share the sentiment.”

 “I really didn’t realize how badly I wanted to have a child until Mariko came along,” Ginchiyo sighed. “It makes it all the more depressing that we can’t seem to figure out the right way to even get it started.”

 “Ginchiyo, dear, as far as I know, there’s only one way to ‘get it started’,” Muneshige chuckled, kissing her chastely and briefly on the lips.

 “And how many times have we done that since we were married…?” Ginchiyo sighed, almost exasperatedly. “Damn, when we were teenagers it seemed like we did it every single night. And yet, nothing. Not even a bit of false hope.”

 And with a pair of pursed lips, Muneshige remained silent beyond a knowing sigh. Finally, after a few moments of silence that were surprisingly less awkward than they both anticipated, he finally decided to speak up. “I know. I know. I know it doesn’t help, but…” he trailed off for a moment at the sight of Mariko shifting and snuggling up to Ginchiyo’s shoulder, and he let out a breathy chuckle. “…But I know at some time it will happen.”

 “Muneshige…?” To Ginchiyo’s relief, another voice sounded from the hall, and Naotsugu eventually poked his head in; at the sight of the sleeping Mariko, Naotsugu raised his brow and lowered his voice. “Oh… sorry…! Um, Mariko’s father is waiting downstairs. He’d like to see his daughter.”

 “Thank you, Naotsugu,” Muneshige flashed his younger brother a smile before glancing at his wife, who was still preoccupied in staring at the little girl in her arms. “Give us… give us just a moment. We have to gather some things together, and then we’ll be right down.”

“I’ll let him know,” Naotsugu bowed deeply, shutting the _shouji_ door behind him as he turned to go back downstairs. Once the two of them were positive that he was gone, they exchanged another knowing glance, Ginchiyo taking a deep breath and knowing that her brief taste of motherhood wasn’t going to last.


	6. Step One

The water in the castle’s onsen the next day had been completely replaced as part of a sort of spring cleaning routine, and as such, the first to break it in would naturally have to be the Lord and Lady of the castle. Not together, of course, Ginchiyo would never allow that. And as chivalry dictated, Muneshige graciously gave the onsen’s first use to his wife. It put her here in this same onsen, the one that she and Mariko bathed in the day before.

It felt a bit lonely without that little girl, Ginchiyo realized, and the thought of having to give up that one brief taste of motherhood she got pained her a little inside. Absentmindedly, her hand went to her stomach, nothing but flat, solid muscle. Gods, could a baby even breathe in there…? She let out a sigh, narrowing her eyes and staring in the direction opposite the door with a wistful sadness.

“What’s wrong, love?”

Immediately Ginchiyo whirled around, instinctively curling her body and covering her chest, to see her husband standing in the doorway, shutting it behind him. “What is your _damage?!_ ” She snarled through gritted teeth. “I liked it when you knocked, go back to that!”

Muneshige sighed, a bit of laughter’s lilt sneaking into it. “I heard you sniffling in here. I thought you might be crying.” Ginchiyo raised an eyebrow, wiping her eyes with her fingers to find stray teardrops leaking from her eyes. _Huh. How about that._ “Your eyes are red. And wet. I can see them from here,” her husband continued, his head dipping and his lips curling into a comforting smile as he made his way over to her.

“Get in,” Ginchiyo ordered, through a broken voice. “I suppose this is the place to discuss it if nowhere else. We can be alone in here.”

A raise of his eyebrow and an “if you say so”, and Muneshige began to undress, an action Ginchiyo seemed to have little to no interest in for the moment—Muneshige definitely noticed. “Ginchiyo, dear, is everything alright? You seem off.”

After a moment, Ginchiyo finally spoke up. “I’m trying to think of how to put this into words, but I’m not as eloquent as you. Sorry.”

A sigh later Muneshige had completely stripped himself, and Ginchiyo still hadn’t said anything. It wasn’t until he slipped into the bath right next to her that she managed to say something, mumbled though it was. “I miss it already.”

Muneshige raised an eyebrow, tilting his head before realizing what she was talking about, chuckling, and letting out a knowing sigh. “I think I know what you’re about to say.”

“For a moment, being a mother… it felt… right. It felt like I should have done this so long ago, but…” Ginchiyo trailed off into a sigh. “Never mind… forget about it.” There was a brief silence as Muneshige stared at his wife’s despondent face with a furrowed brow, unsure how to proceed. Finally, with an exhale and a hand drawn up from the water to cup his wife’s cheek, he raised her face up so that he could touch his forehead to hers and look her directly in the eye.

“This sad face of yours is really disheartening, and we need to change it. I want to know what I can do to fix it.” Muneshige’s words were met with Ginchiyo’s lips, and he leaned in closer to deepen his kiss. It seemed an eternity before they broke away.

“Just… say you want to be a father.” She finally exhaled in a breathy murmur, not yet having noticed her arms now cinching his bare chest tightly against hers.

And with that, he wrapped his own arms tightly around her, pulling her into a long embrace—her head rested gently on his chest, and he tangled his fingers in her hair, stroking the strands in a calming, almost calculated reverie. Ginchiyo shut her eyes, feeling, thinking, smelling nothing but him all around her as he lovingly stroked her hair in that moment of respite, almost praying that it would never break.

He didn’t even say anything for a few moments. All they really needed was the two of them together at that point. There was no lust, no romance… just comfort. Finally his voice came as a smooth murmur, the sound like silk—Ginchiyo took a breath at the feel of it wafting through her ears. “I do, Ginchiyo,” he sighed, his fingers still threading through her hair. “I miss it already myself. I’d love nothing more than to start a family with you.”

“That’s the one thing I’ve ever needed to hear come from your mouth.” Ginchiyo sighed, pushing herself up from his chest and kissing him deeply.

As they broke apart, Muneshige inhaled before cinching his arms around her again, and Ginchiyo finally obliged, resting her head in the crook of her husband’s neck and gently shutting her eyes. Finally he broke the silence, letting out a light chuckle.

“What…?” Ginchiyo looked up at him.

“Remember that first night I spent at the castle?”

“What brought that up all of a sudden…?”

“Remember when we shared a room, and you were furious…?” Muneshige chuckled, absentmindedly rubbing her back. “I recall you saying something like ‘I am a princess and I will never share my room with some vagabond little kid’…? And yet here we are, discussing having children.”

Ginchiyo smiled. “Ah, yes, my princess phase. That left me after a while. Remember the next morning when Daddy came in and scolded us for not getting along, and then he told us we were to be married…?”

“Our responses were my favorite part.” Muneshige let out a hearty laugh, putting on his best doe eyes and little girl voice. “’Daddy, I don’t have to _kiss_ him, do I…? Gross…’”

Ginchiyo blushed slightly, but couldn’t help letting out a small chuckle at the memory. “I recall your response not being much better, Muneshige. ‘I’ll marry her for you, Father, but don’t expect me to like her.’ You certainly knew how to treat a woman, even back then.” She shut her eyes, leaning her head into his shoulder, and he responded by wrapping an arm around her and kissing the top of her head.

“I withdraw my statement. Had I known my wife would be this adorable all the time, I’d have arranged the wedding myself.”

“And I withdraw mine.” Ginchiyo responded, nuzzling her red-tinged cheek into his skin and smiling. “I do have to say… for as much as you annoy me, you really are…” She paused a moment and punctuated her next words with a deep sigh. “…Impressively good at the whole kissing thing. I guess.”

Muneshige laughed again, and said, “Really…?” as Ginchiyo lifted her head from her husband’s shoulder and pursed her lips in annoyance that she had to admit it again. With a slight nod of eye-rolled affirmation from his wife, Muneshige smiled. “Well, how about that,” he continued, cupping her cheek in his hand. “I thought I’d been getting rusty, what with how little time alone we seem to get.”

And, leaning in, Muneshige’s breath stung Ginchiyo’s cheeks as he met her lips in a soft embrace.

What began as a chaste kiss full of love soon became more chaotic, Muneshige gingerly probing his tongue against her mouth until she finally accepted, her own tongue intertwining with his as he gripped her body closer. It wasn’t until they realized what the kiss had turned into that they parted only briefly, Ginchiyo realizing that she had taken a fistful of his hair only after the fact; she managed to let go of that, but couldn’t tear herself more than an inch away from his lips. “I… have a rather silly request,” she muttered, a pink blush snaking across her face.

“Anything,” Muneshige returned with a breath and a smile, cinching his arms tightly around her.

It took Ginchiyo a while to dredge up the courage to say much after that, but she finally inhaled deeply, only managing her request in the form of a low, breathy murmur. “Just… hold me tightly. Tell me you love me, even if you really don’t. Please.”

And Muneshige obeyed, cinching her body tightly against his and guiding her to straddle him as the deer-chaser fell in the background; it went unheard through Ginchiyo’s ears only picking up the sound of Muneshige’s heartbeat and his delicate whispers into her ear, his warm breath biting at her cheek. “I couldn’t ever lie to you. I love you, my dear. More than anything.”

Ginchiyo exhaled before she crashed her lips into his again--the feeling of her bare skin brushing up against his made a warm sensation spread through her body, and she felt her muscles tense before melting away at the touch of his fingers grazing her breast. She pulled back slightly to give him easier access, and his lips, busy with hers though they were, managed to curl into a smile at her act of charity. After a moment he spent caressing the skin of her breast, pinching at the peaks and eliciting soft moans from his wife in the process, Muneshige turned the attention of his lips to her other breast, and Ginchiyo shuddered with every suck, every flick of the tongue, every nibble that caused her to gasp because she wasn’t expecting it. He felt himself pulsing beneath her, his desire growing harder with every shiver and moan his touch brought to her. He looked up for a moment—her face was always his favorite part—to see Ginchiyo’s lips half-parted in a shaky breath, giving a soft “ah…” with every flick of his tongue on her sensitive flesh, every roll of his thumb on the other breast. Her eyes were shut lightly, giving herself entirely to the sensation… even still, her fingers made their way to thread through his hair, a caress that seemed to excite him more than anything else, and he kissed and sucked at her skin for another moment before finally pulling away. “So soft,” he murmured, placing kisses along her collarbone as he continued to speak. “Like silk. You have beautiful skin, my dear.”

And before even given the chance to respond, she discovered exactly where his other hand had gone when a shudder radiated through her body from the pressure of his fingers gently rubbing her center. Instinctively, she bit her bottom lip, her breaths growing ragged, heavy, and, to Muneshige’s almost predatory satisfaction, audible. He flicked his tongue across her skin more quickly, and in an effort to hear her voice again, slid a couple fingers gently inside of her. And at the sound she made, somewhere between a sigh and a moan, he spoke again, the only words he’d said in a long while. “You’re wet.”

As Ginchiyo began to respond, Muneshige smirked, putting more pressure on her body, and her voice came out strained, put into words behind a poorly hidden moan. “We’re also in the bath, you moron.”

“You’re also wet.”

She acknowledged his words with a ragged sigh, instinctively covering the hand that was busy between her legs with her own hand. After a moment of working his hand against her, Ginchiyo shifted herself over him. She moved so smoothly over his body like the water in the onsen itself, and trailed her hands downward towards his length for what seemed to Muneshige as an intoxicatingly long time before she had it in her hand. He inhaled sharply, and she quickly began pumping it, her lips quieting his groans and sighs. She felt him firming in her hand, growing warmer and warmer to her touch along with the gradually increasing ripples of pleasure each quick motion of her hand sent through him, and his through her. He was soon fully erect, and Ginchiyo took a moment to slip her fingers away from between her legs, to admire his flesh with gentle hands before Muneshige pulled his hand away from her center. She glanced upward at him, and he gently tugged at her hips to signal to her with some equivalent of the words that failed him at the moment—the sight was enough to steal his breath, let alone words he thought he knew to describe the situation. Ginchiyo kissed him deeply on his lips, and Muneshige returned it, her mouth demonstrating to him not only all of her passion and fire, but also her love, all her adoration for her husband and all her devotion to him—words were unneeded to express that. The needy tugs at his hair, the satisfied and yet still expectant breaths she let out while settling herself on top of him... they were all he needed.

Words failed her at the feeling of him inside of her—nothing could be done except rolling her hips and grinding them rhythmically against his. Their kisses grew deeper as she worked her hips against him, her moans growing a little louder until she could finally form coherent words in her head that only came out as ragged pleas of “yes” and “more” into Muneshige’s mouth.

His own breaths grew heavy, and it was all he could do to avoid rocking his hips and messing up the ecstatic rhythm Ginchiyo had adopted in riding him. But eventually, he couldn’t hold himself still anymore, grasping at her hips and tugging them as close to his body as possible, arching his back as the feeling rippled through him and he ground his hips against her. Moans and breaths intertwined, and their hearts pounded like the ceaseless beat of the war drums that seemed to never leave their ears. For a moment, a brief period of respite, they had left behind their Lord and Lady façade; all that remained was a simple woman and a simple man who could not get close enough to each other, who lusted for the other’s touches, probably more than anything else in the world.

Ginchiyo at this point couldn’t move—she was rendered motionless by Muneshige’s hips colliding into her over and over—and the only thing she could manage to do was bury her head in his shoulder, stifling her now loud and ragged moans into the skin of Muneshige’s neck. He felt a shiver run down his spine, and he bucked his hips faster, his back arching instinctively as the massive groan of pleasure he had fought to keep silent finally made itself known—motivation enough for Ginchiyo to match her husband’s pace, grinding her hips against his again. They worked each other for only a few fleeting moments until Ginchiyo found herself blindsided by release, a final ecstatic moan tearing itself from her throat. Muneshige followed one final thrust of his hips later, release pulsing through him as he gripped their bodies together, ensuring they didn’t part until after they were both heaped in each other’s arms and panting, droplets of water sliding down their red, sweat-tinged skin.

It was curious how calm the onsen was still, even after the chaos that occurred just moments ago. Their heavy breaths slowly died down. The deer-chaser struck once again. And Muneshige’s arms cinched tighter around Ginchiyo when the breath finally petered back into his lungs. “I love you,” he murmured, kissing her forehead softly, and she let out a sigh, having finally caught her breath as well.

She’d never been much for verbal affirmation of her affections, so Ginchiyo settled for cupping his cheeks in her hands and kissing him deeply, and he knew exactly what she was trying to say.


	7. A Brother's Concern

Ginchiyo slid her thumb under the ribbon tying together the rolled piece of parchment the messenger had given her—it had been a week now since Mariko had gone back home, a week of straight introspection on Ginchiyo’s part, and when the messenger had mentioned the name “Satou”, he’d immediately captured her attention. With a quiet inhale, Ginchiyo’s eyes scanned the relatively neat penmanship she was greeted with. The words failed to register. All Ginchiyo knew was that Mariko had written her, and despite her usual insistence upon only reading the important letters, she found herself thanking the messenger with a quick bow and turning on her heel to return on her route to the castle, her focus resting entirely on the letter in her hands.

_“Dear Lady Ginchiyo,”_

Polite as ever. Ginchiyo’s lips quirked slightly.

_“I wanted to thank you again for saving me! Daddy says thank you, too. I miss you and Lord Muneshige, and I hope he and you are well.”_

It took a brief moment of incredulity on Ginchiyo’s part that the elegant prose she was reading came from a child, before realizing that it was ridiculous that a girl her age could read, let alone write, especially with such neat penmanship. _I wonder how she got this to me…_

In any case, the letter still begged to be read.

“ _My favorite part of staying in the castle was meeting you. You are my hero!”_

A swell of pride rose in Ginchiyo’s chest, a different sensation than any she had felt in recent memory. She only realized after a few moments the warmth in her cheeks and the smile on her lips as she read on.

“ _Mr._ _Naotsugu also said I can play with his baby when he or she gets bigger. That would make me so happy! Maybe someday I can see you and Lord Muneshige again!_

_Thank you for everything!_

_Satou Mariko”_

She let out a chuckle. “Yes, maybe someday,” she murmured to nobody in particular, inhaling deeply and sighing before folding the letter and sliding it into an inconspicuous pouch at her waist. “I’d like that.”

***

She’d made it as far as the castle courtyard before noticing Naotsugu whittling away at a piece of wood with a knife. Taking care to approach him cautiously (she knew how skittish he could be at times), Ginchiyo touched him on the shoulder, and he let out a yelp, accidentally tossing the knife in the air. “S-Sister…! U-uh, I…!” he stammered once he realized who had touched him. “I’m… I’m so sorry, I-I didn’t realize it was you, I—“

“Hey, hey, calm down,” Ginchiyo sighed, chuckling slightly and picking up the knife from where Naotsugu had dropped it, handing it back to him.

“Thank you,” Naotsugu sighed, setting the knife aside in the interest of carrying on a conversation. “You seem like you’re in good spirits today, milady.”

“Well, I…” Ginchiyo trailed off into a chuckle before she reached into the pouch at her waist and handed Naotsugu Mariko’s letter. “I received this today.”

But to Ginchiyo’s surprise, Naotsugu just smiled and shook his head. “I knew you’d like that.”

“You… knew?”

“I was near her village yesterday, and we met with each other. I helped her write it.”

Ginchiyo took a moment to register that it was Naotsugu’s penmanship that she was reading, and when she did, she couldn’t help but chuckle slightly. “I should’ve guessed. A girl so small wouldn’t have such neat penmanship. This is impressive.” She gazed at the brushstrokes for a moment before adding with a light scoff, “hard to believe your brother can’t write a legible sentence to save his life.”

“Muneshige was never that great at the writing and reading part.” Naotsugu flashed Ginchiyo a wide grin. “He’d never tell you this, but sometimes when we were children and Lord Dosetsu was teaching you and him how to read, he’d have to ask me how to write some of the words.”

Ginchiyo scoffed. “Not shocking. He’s too into his own head to be any good at practical things.”

There was a brief pause for a moment before Naotsugu took a deep breath. “Do you love my brother?”

“That was… out of the blue.” Ginchiyo raised an eyebrow, unsure exactly how to respond, so, naturally, she said the first thing to come to her mind at the moment. “You mean… _love_ him?” She immediately winced, having realized exactly what she had just said and how asinine it sounded, but thankfully Naotsugu didn’t seem to care too much about it. He chuckled.

“Of course. I mean, I guess that’s a silly question, but… gosh, I don’t know, it just seems odd to me that my wife and I'd end up having a baby before you two.”

Ginchiyo immediately deflated. “It isn’t something I like talking about.”

“Love?”

“Children. … The answer to your question is yes. The first one. About Muneshige and I. That’s not so hard to admit,” she lied, dancing around the word ‘love’ as usual and hiding the light dusting of pink on her cheeks by looking away. Talking about that sort of thing always made her uncomfortable for some reason. “But a woman apparently needs more than that to get pregnant.”

Naotsugu sighed wistfully, rolling the piece of wood he was carving around in his hand. “It isn’t much consolation, but I think you’d be an excellent mother, Lady Ginchiyo.”

Her eyes shifted away from him briefly before she turned her head to look at the carving in Naotsugu’s hand. A charming little wooden bear with big eyes. Her lips quirked slightly. “I appreciate the sentiment. I suppose it’ll be a while before we know for sure, though.”

As she looked up and noticed Naotsugu staring gravely at the ground in front of him, she added, “What’s on your mind…?”

Naotsugu immediately snapped back into reality, shaking his head. “Oh, golly, I’m… I’m sorry. I just… I worry that with the state of things, with so many battles and wars we all risk our lives in…” he trailed off for a moment, setting the wooden bear aside for the moment and crossing his arms. “You and my brother are put in more and more danger as time goes on, and even though I know you’ll be okay, well… I mean if something goes sour, and we lose one of you, what then? I mean the least of my worries is the fact that my brother and you are pretty much all I have. What about the Tachibana…?”

Having nearly chastised him for poking his nose in her business, Ginchiyo thought better of it and instead just gave a half-hearted sigh. “I worry about that every single day of my life. I’ve got no brothers or sisters… Muneshige and I hold the fate of the Tachibana in our hands and…” she trailed off, and her expression hardened. “We’re failing.”

“You’re not failing, it just takes time. I mean, gosh, you’re making a little person after all! All that means is once he gets here you’re getting the pick of the litter!” Naotsugu smiled, and the sight quirked her lips. He may not be the best at talking to people, but the toothy grin of his he always flashed was infectious.

“I suppose so,” she muttered, mostly to give Naotsugu the impression that she didn’t think his words were as empty as she actually did.


	8. Rendezvous

Ginchiyo slipped quietly into the onsen with a sigh, and Koshosho leaned against the edge to observe the girls in the bath with them. Ina of course sat with her hands folded, only unfolding them to wash her face with a cloth. Kai, as always, was much cruder than the lot of them, her eyes shut and legs crossed, the back of her head leaning against her hands. “So, Ginchiyo,” Kai began. “You’re late. What gives? You guys are the ones who wanted us over.”

Ginchiyo meekly apologized, explaining that she had just finished some discourse with Muneshige and the other lords who had come to the castle for a conference: Chosokabe Motochika and Kato Kiyomasa, having been sent as a liason from the Toyotomi. The chaos that had wracked the nation in the years before seemed to have ebbed into an unsteady but peaceful equilibrium—Ginchiyo and Muneshige, despite the Shimazu, had grown rather comfortable with it. It was a nice respite from the previous years of conflict and strife, and while she touted herself as a creature of war, Ginchiyo still had to admit her fondness towards the atmosphere shift. Even political discourse with other clans at this point became less oriented towards devising battle plans, and more resembling a chat over tea with friends. Even still, though, she found herself growing slightly irritable and irrational over the past few weeks. And for some reason she wanted _misoshiro_ and pickled plums really _, really_ badly _._

With a sigh, Ginchiyo sank into the water, her eyes lightly fluttering shut. Her breaths were even, four seconds in, seven seconds held, and eight seconds out. Ina furrowed her brow, lightly touching Ginchiyo’s shoulder to get her attention. It took her by surprise at first, and her head jerked towards Ina, who shrank slightly.

“I’m worried that you may not be feeling well, Ginchiyo. You look exhausted.” Ina tilted her head, her long, black hair dipping into the water.

Kai nodded slightly and added, “Yeah, you look in a bad way.”

Ginchiyo shot the collective group a glare. “I’m fine. Just a little nauseous. It’s been going on for a week or so. I’m used to it. I’ll be fine by sunset.” Her sigh ended the conversation rather awkwardly, and they sat rather quietly for the next few moments thinking the exact same thing before Koshosho spoke up again with a devilish smirk and put it into words.

“Morning sickness, eh?” The remark caught Ginchiyo off-guard, and a deep red blush faded onto her face. “Naughty girl,” Koshosho winked at the red-faced Ginchiyo, whose mouth was agape in shock. “No shame in some adult fun.” She added as she brushed a lock of hair out of her face. “But it seems to me like _somebody_ didn’t pull out in time~!” A giggle from Kai and an eye-roll from Ina prompted Ginchiyo to finally figure out something to say in response.

“E-Excuse you…!” Ginchiyo shot back, managing to put her astonishment that Koshosho would even say something like that into words. “Assuming it’s any of your business in the first place, for your information, there’s absolutely no way that I could be…” she trailed off for a moment, staring off into the distance. There was no way… right? She couldn’t be so lucky. But that night in the onsen so many weeks back, and that her cycle was late… it would honestly make sense.

Kai seemed to take notice. “You sound like you’re not so sure about that.” She curled her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them, and Koshosho went “ooh” and instinctively touched her lips with her fingertips.

“Look, it’s not… _certain_.” Ginchiyo held her hands up. “I don’t even know what pregnancy is supposed to be like aside from your belly getting round, anyway.”

Ina giggled slightly, and Ginchiyo would normally get rather irritated at it, but being the only one of the group who’d had a child, she figured Ina would be the one to ask. “Well, then, let me ask you a few things.”

Knowing at least in part what was coming, Ginchiyo gave another sigh, probably her third in the past five minutes.  “Fine,” she grumbled, crossing her arms and looking the other direction. “Just don’t get too personal.”

“Alright, fair enough,” Ina offered her a warm smile, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. “When would your menstrual cycle have normally started?”

“Personal.”

“Okay, are your breasts tender at all?”

“Personal.”

“Any spotting or cramping?”

“ _Extremely_ personal.”

“Okay, fine.” Ina huffed, raising an eyebrow and continuing against her better judgment. “When I first got pregnant with Nobuyoshi, my back hurt a lot. Right here.” She motioned to her lower back, and Ginchiyo shifted slightly, her back too sore to move much more.

“I… yes, I definitely feel that.”

Kai pursed her lips, leaning her chin on her hand. “Well, that was a wealth of information. I guess at this point only you can really know.”

Ginchiyo found herself growing more and more anxious, but more hopeful as well. Indeed, she’d missed her period that last week, but the cramps were still as brutal as ever, and her breasts felt as though they both had just been shot. Could it be…?

Koshosho, having sat back and observed the conversation without a word, finally spoke up. “I hear there are tests for it.” It drew a chuckle from Kai, who leaned back onto the wall of the bath and crossed her legs again.

“Don’t you have to, like… piss on a rice crop or something?” Kai asked, her unprovoked vulgarity drawing a slight amused smile from Ginchiyo’s lips. “If it grows, you’re golden.”

Koshosho raised an eyebrow. “I thought it involved a rabbit.”

Ginchiyo rolled her eyes. “Well, I’m not pissing anywhere, and I hate rabbits. Try again.”

“Okay…” Ina murmured, putting a finger to her chin. “I recall you were supposed to mix the woman’s urine with wine.”

“Gross,” Kai made a face. “You don’t keep the wine, right…?” Her question garnered a couple stares from the other girls in the onsen with them; it took a moment for her to notice, but once she did, she hung her head slightly, instinctively rubbing the back of her neck. “Yeah, never mind, forget I asked.”

“Regardless, Muneshige’s brother is a medic,” Ginchiyo explained, shutting her eyes lightly and crossing her arms. “I’m certain that he’ll know the proper methods and such.” As she mulled it over more, her confidence grew—she took a moment to plan in her head how she was going to tell her husband, but that flight of fancy was quickly grounded by the logical side of her brain that tended to take over when she got too emotionally invested in something. But even logic was telling her the same thing; the symptoms fit, the timing fit… there was no way she couldn’t have been, right? She resigned herself to finding Naotsugu as soon as possible to find out for sure. Then Ina smiled at her friend, touching her shoulder again with her hand, and this time Ginchiyo offered Ina her own polite smile in return.

“I’m really happy for you, Ginchiyo. Truly.”

And despite her reluctance towards expressing obvious emotion, she thought about it for a moment, sinking a bit deeper into the water, and she could barely stop herself from grinning widely at the prospect… so she didn’t.


	9. Confession

Ginchiyo took a breath, kneeling in the courtyard beside that same orange cat that Mariko had played with when she was in the castle so long ago. He purred, rubbing his face on her fingers, and she smiled slightly despite her nerves. Cats were always wonderful therapy. It wasn’t until a few moments later after the cat had fallen asleep and Ginchiyo was stroking his belly that she heard Muneshige’s smooth voice sound from behind her.

“You… wanted to speak with me?”

Her stomach turned. _I’m going to be sick._

“Are you alright…?” he tilted his head slightly. “I know you’ve been ill the past week.”

A deep breath, and Ginchiyo stood and forced herself to speak. “That’s what I wanted to speak with you about.” Her hands shook out of nerves, but she wasn’t sure why. They had wanted this for years. Perhaps it was the excitement that made her nervous. There was no way for her to tell.

“Did you find out what was wrong?” Muneshige tilted his head to the side, crossing his arms.

“Uh… well, yes. I approached Naotsugu yesterday and asked him for a bit of assistance, and he was completely certain about the diagnosis.” Her eyes shut, as they always did when she explained something. Muneshige thus didn’t think anything of it, but Ginchiyo knew her nerves would overwhelm her if she looked at him.

He perked a brow, wondering why she wasn’t as straightforward as usual. She was never fond of small-talk, nor verbosity. It seemed like she was putting off telling him what was actually going on, but even still, he remained patient. “And the diagnosis was…”

“Do you remember when we were in the onsen a few weeks back…?”

“...Gods above, you didn’t drink the water, did you…?”

“What?! No, of course not, that’s disgusting…!” Ginchiyo shot him a glare before realizing she was getting irritated. It took her a moment to calm her nerves and her anger, and she rubbed her temple in frustration before continuing. “It was the time that you and I… you know… were _together…_?”

Of course, he was too blithe to really understand where this was going, but he responded nonetheless. “Ah, right. I can’t forget that… and it was excellent, by the way.”

“Uh… thank you, I guess. But, um… the point is…” She took a deep breath, knowing that this was the moment. Finally opening her eyes and turning towards him, she met his stare with one of her own. And after a moment of what was an awkward silence for her and a confusing one for him, she managed to say what she didn’t realize until that moment was something she had wanted to say for years.

“… It worked.”

He raised his brow, at first unsure if she was joking, then realizing that it was Ginchiyo and such a notion would be impossible. “You’re…”

A breath later, she responded, “Pregnant. Yes,” a flush of pink dusted her cheeks, and out of the corner of her eye as she looked away, she could swear she saw Muneshige grinning widely. He stuttered a bit for a moment until the shock wore off before finally putting his incoherencies into words.

“Are… are you serious…?” Muneshige stammered.

“Am I ever not seri—WAH!” She couldn’t finish her sentence before Muneshige grabbed her and held her tightly, enough that she could barely breathe. “M-Mune… shige… you’re… crushing… my ribs…”

He obviously hadn't heard her; instead he let out one of the most ecstatic and genuine laughs she’d ever heard from him. “I can’t believe it! This is wonderful! I have to tell _everyone!”_

“I still… can’t… breathe…”

Ginchiyo finally managed to wiggle herself free and only had a moment of respite before he took her hands in his. “What is it now, you lummox…?!”

The wide smile on Muneshige’s face still remained, long enough that his cheeks began to ache. “I may be a lummox, but I’m a lummox who’s going to be a father, and I couldn’t be happier…! Oh, Ginchiyo, this is the best day of my life...!” His hands left hers and cupped her cheeks, drawing her into a kiss, and against her better judgment, her arms slid around him, and she returned it. As they broke apart after precious seconds, Muneshige’s smile returned, wider than before, if that was possible. “Who should we tell first…?”

She waved a hand in his general direction before crossing her arms again and looking off into the distance. “Now hold on just a moment—“

“…Of course, Naotsugu!”

“He knows already, you idiot, didn’t I just tell you—” But when Ginchiyo turned to face him, he was already halfway back towards the castle calling his brother’s name, and she couldn’t help but laugh at his excitement, wondering why she was ever nervous about telling him.


	10. Disaster

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning: this chapter is triggering for a lot of people.

_W-what is this…?_

Whenever he stirred in his sleep, Muneshige always seemed to have a habit of needing to cling onto something, usually Ginchiyo. The two of them had been sleeping rather soundly heaped in each other’s arms lately—for some reason unknown to even her, Ginchiyo was exceedingly forthcoming with her affections (forthcoming for Ginchiyo at least) in the past month or so, despite her grumbling about being kept off the battlefield. It was no surprise, then, that Muneshige was alert enough to wake up and notice her absence one night. It came as a slight shock to him, seeing as how she’d been sleeping rather soundly through the night as of late. Curious, he rubbed his eyes and stretched for a moment before setting off to find her.

_So much blood…_

Muneshige called her name, searching through as many rooms in the castle as he could—the onsen, the kitchen, the main keep, but there was no sign of Ginchiyo. Suddenly he heard a yell of pain, one that sounded like it came from his wife; his head immediately jerked towards the direction the sound came from, and he found himself at a full sprint towards her.

_G-gods, what’s going on…? S-somebody, help me…!_

His worry peaked as he finally found a trail of blood, and his eyes widened. _Ginchiyo…!_ Immediately he rushed into the room it led to, and he found Ginchiyo on her knees in the corner, slumped against the wall, doubled over in pain. Her clothes were soaked in blood, her eyes shut tightly, and sweat glistened off her forehead by the moonlight, and he instinctively rushed over to kneel by her to let her know he was there.

_M-Muneshige…!_

“I-I… I can’t… It won’t stop bleeding…!” she stammered, trailing off into an agonized sound somewhere between a grunt and a yell. Muneshige’s stomach turned, his mind immediately turning to the baby.

“The baby…?!” He held his hands out towards her, hovering over her body, not sure if he should try and touch her or not.

“I-I don’t know…!” She shot back, her voice more shaky and terrified than he had ever heard from her before. “I don’t know what’s going on…! D-don’t just stand there, get someone, a medic, anyone…!”

Immediately he nodded, finally settling on grasping her shoulders, and with one eye shut tight and breath heavy from the searing pain, she looked up at him. “Everything is going to be okay. I’m going to get someone. Are you going to be alright by yourself?”

“I-I’ll be fine, just please, save the baby…!” She pleaded, knuckles white as she gripped the fabric of her _yukata_ in agony before doubling over and clutching her stomach in another agonized shout. Without another thought, Muneshige turned and sprinted out of the room, and the first person he could think of with training as a medic was Naotsugu.

Fast asleep, Naotsugu didn’t so much as stir at first when Muneshige tried to rouse him, even after slamming open the _shouji_ door leading to his quarters. “Naotsugu!” It took Muneshige physically grasping him by the shoulders and shaking him awake with a loud shout and a light slap on his cheek. “Get up, you hibernating bear!”

Of course that was enough to jerk him awake, and Muneshige was still shaking him as he awoke with a start and shot back, “M-Muneshige…?! What in the world is going on…?!”

“It’s Ginchiyo…! Come quickly…!” At those words, Naotsugu immediately hopped out of the futon and rushed after his brother as he led the way back to the room Ginchiyo was in. They came in to find her panting heavily, slumped up against the wall, sweat dripping down her face.

Naotsugu’s eyes widened, his pupils shrank. “S-so much blood…” he muttered, slowly taking a tentative step towards her. “I-I… I don’t know how much I can do for her, Brother…”

Muneshige’s pleading eyes met his, and it convinced Naotsugu to kneel next to her and put the back of his hand to her forehead. “Gosh, she’s burning up…”

Another agonized grunt from Ginchiyo, and she tensed as Naotsugu lightly touched her shoulder. “Where does it hurt the most…?” Her eyes opening slightly, she could barely notice Naotsugu’s concerned expression as he hovered over her.

“S-stomach…”

“The same place as, say, menstrual cramps…?”

Ginchiyo nodded, and Muneshige and Naotsugu exchanged horrified glances. “I need to look at the blood,” Naotsugu’s brow furrowed, and he nodded his brother over. “Take her somewhere safe. I have to check something.”

“What would the blood tell you…?” Muneshige crouched down next to her, helping her grab hold of his shoulders so that he could get her someplace more comfortable than a hard wooden floor leaning against a hard wooden wall. Naotsugu crouched low, his voice slightly unsteady.

“It’s a little ugly, but when a woman miscarries, there’ll be fetal tissue in the discharge.”

Ginchiyo’s breath stopped. That word. _Miscarries._ “Gods above, don’t you dare tell me that…” she could only murmur her response to Naotsugu’s words before the next wave of pain struck her; it seemed much less potent than the last, even though it was still agonizing. All she could think about was her baby.

The elder brother nodded, and approached his wife, supporting her with his shoulder. “We’ve got to get you somewhere safer than here. Come on.” And Ginchiyo obeyed, clutching the fabric of her husband’s clothing as her breath hitched in her throat, leaving Naotsugu to his devices as they made their way slowly out of the room. It was all she could do to move, even though in the back of her mind she knew that whatever was going to happen was completely out of her hands.

It wasn’t until Muneshige managed to guide her upstairs through successive waves of searing pain, and it wasn’t until he finally guided her down to lay on the bed, that she managed to speak. “He… he said…”

“I know, I know, but there’s a chance that isn’t what’s going on. Everything will be okay,” he reassured her and squeezed her hand, dabbing her face with a cloth. “We’ll figure this out, as we always do.”

His hands were shivering in apprehension, and Ginchiyo couldn’t manage to look him in the eye.

It was only a brief few minutes before Naotsugu walked back in to see Muneshige holding the cloth that he had wetted slightly to Ginchiyo’s forehead, and his expression, always poorly hidden, forced Muneshige’s eyes wide. “Naotsugu, no…”

“I’m… I’m sorry, Brother.”

Ginchiyo forced herself to a sitting position on their futon despite Muneshige’s insistence to the contrary. “Please, don’t tell me that…”

Naotsugu swallowed thickly, shutting his eyes and bowing his head.

A reaction failed to present itself with Ginchiyo, even as Muneshige held her closely to him. She only sat there with her eyes wide in shock and terror—the thought that she had just lost her own son or daughter before they even had the chance to meet didn’t occur to her until moments after Naotsugu had given them the news. And it was then that she buried her face in her husband’s chest, her ordeal too exhausting for her to do anything but breathe away her horror.


	11. Coming to Terms

“Ginchiyo…” Muneshige edged in through the door to find her in the exact same position on their futon she was in three hours ago when he left. “Have you been laying here this entire time?”

“What’s it to you?” came her murmured response, almost too lethargic and under her breath to be heard. If it wasn’t for the fact that she spoke to him, he could just as well have assumed she was dead; she didn’t move a muscle, not even to look over at him. With an inhale, Muneshige knew he had to address what had happened the night before.

“Ginchiyo, last night—“

“Was my worst nightmare. Yes, thank you.” She refused to let him finish, refused to even roll over and look him in the eye, mostly because she couldn’t bear to allow him to see the tears in hers. And with a sigh, Muneshige knew he couldn’t say anything to console her. The pain of a father losing a child he’d never met was nothing compared to what Ginchiyo must have been feeling.

He did all he could do nonetheless, and he made his way over to the futon, and laying on his side, he held her tightly in his arms. Whereas she normally would have protested in some fashion, Ginchiyo couldn’t find the strength in her to be belligerent. Instead she rolled over into him, resting her head gently on his chest, and breathed in deeply to calm herself. The feeling of his arms around her alone enticed her to break down, but she forced herself silent. She couldn’t even open her mouth to speak. If she did she’d burst into tears.

He spoke to her in a voice he rarely used with her, but it seemed to comfort her the most. Softly, in gently whispered breaths, he murmured her name in her ear. “Ginchiyo… I’m so sorry… I love you.”

She gripped the cloth of his shirt and tugged it out of reflex. “I’m a failure…” her voice broke as she choked the words out past a dry throat and a shaky breath. “I… I can’t…” and she couldn’t continue without crying. Instead she buried her face in his chest and breathed again, in an attempt to will away the tears. She almost hoped he wouldn’t speak, because she knew if he did she’d unravel there in his arms.

But of course, he had to respond. “You’re not a failure. Don’t ever say that,” he breathed shakily. “We both lost something very precious last night, and... I know I can’t tell you everything will be okay, but…” he trailed off and had to stop for a moment to swallow the lump in his throat and blink away the pressure behind his eyes. “But I hate to see your eyes so sad. Ginchiyo, please…” his voice broke as he spoke to her, and he hugged her closely to him. “Don’t let yourself suffer alone.”

And at those words, Muneshige still held her close, and her heaving sobs as she burst into tears rocked both their bodies in an erratic rhythm. His eyes shut tightly, teardrops forming at the edges; his face buried itself in the top of her head, and he tried to keep his breathing even, on the off chance that it might soothe her in some way. “Shh, it’s alright…” he cooed, gently caressing her back with his hand in an attempt to console her. The energy she would normally expend pushing him away and desperately trying to bottle her emotions instead channeled into gripping him closely to her with locked muscles and throwing herself fully into her breakdown. And the entire time, Muneshige’s arms never released from around her, and the entire time, he consoled her softly, his words coming out in whispers and breaths. “Everything is going to be alright.”

It took Ginchiyo a moment to come out of her stupor, but to her own surprise she managed stammering out something coherent. “It… it won’t be alright. It won’t. Empty promises aren’t going to help anything…” and she could barely choke out the end of her phrase before she broke down again. “The Tachibana will die with me.”

“That’s not true—“

“Yes it is! Are you blind?!” She looked up at him, tears staining the edges of her eyes. “You see the way it works every day. I’m too useless as a man to be taken seriously as a leader of a clan, and I’m too useless as a woman to ensure its survival! I’m so terrible a mother that I even let my child die…! I’m worthless, no matter how hard I try…!”

Muneshige took a breath, his eyes shutting gently as his thoughts raced. “Ginchiyo, it wasn’t your fault, you must know that. And furthermore, you can’t tell me you’re worthless. You can’t tell me you aren’t beloved by the people of Kyushu. Bungo Province itself celebrates your name. Is that so worthless…? Is that useless…? To hear that you think yourself that way is ridiculous to me.”

“You’re married to me, you’re supposed to spew false reassurance like that,” she replied dryly, almost bitterly.

“Nothing false,” Muneshige murmured, drawing her face up with his fingers, and he kissed her lips softly. Ginchiyo’s body still shook from her breakdown, and she sniffled slightly before initiating the next kiss, only a brief peck, but that was all she could manage after all of this. “I mean every single word. You are not worthless. And even if you were worthless in the eyes of every man in the land, the man with you now knows that you’re priceless.”

She would normally protest. She would normally scoff and chastise him for being so pathetic for all of his emotional tripe, but this time, there in his arms, she melted, gripping him as closely as she could. Her mind raced, even as she attempted to even out her breaths. Muneshige only responded by reassuringly rubbing her back, electing not to say a word. It was a respite like none Ginchiyo had ever felt before—she hadn’t slept since the incident, and the chaos she had just emerged from sapped every last bit of her energy. Her eyes fluttered shut… and a few minutes later she realized she was still buried in his arms.

“Mmh…” she stirred a bit before slowly pushing herself up in a sitting position. The thought that she might be failing still weighed heavy on her mind, and in truth, it had even while she knew she was pregnant. However painful it might be for her to let go, she knew that her first duty was to the Tachibana, and she could not let it fall. “…Muneshige…”

“Hm?” He muttered, sounding as though he was nearly drifting off along with her. “What is it?”

“I…” she stretched briefly, taking a deep breath before continuing. “I spoke to Naotsugu a few months ago… and he made me think about some things.”

Muneshige inhaled, giving her a nod and a perked brow. “What kind of things?”

“N-not to make this political, but…” Ginchiyo took a breath. “As devastated as I am about all of this, and I’m certain you share the sentiment… Muneshige, what if something happens to you? Or me? If the Tachibana don’t have an heir…”

Muneshige sighed when she trailed off, running a hand back through his hair. “I know, Ginchiyo…” he couldn’t look at her in the eye, only staring at a spot on the futon where their covers had bunched up. "At this point… with how hard we’ve tried, and now this…” It was so unlike him to throw in the towel like that—Ginchiyo’s brow furrowed, even though she knew the both of them were on the exact same page. And he finally said the words she anticipated, and even though she did, they still brought a dull ache out of her heart. “Maybe we should just… figure out an alternative.”

Ginchiyo perked her brow. “Like...”

“Like… training Tadashige instead.” Muneshige’s eyes still off in the distance, he let out a defeated sigh, flopping back down on his back. _Tadashige…_ Naotsugu’s son was only recently born, as of a few weeks. If he were to grow up learning the skills to be the heir to the clan, surely it would be no different. He wasn’t theirs, and truly he never would be—but Muneshige and Ginchiyo both knew that they were out of options. “If Naotsugu would let us adopt him…”

She had no choice but to entertain the thought. “Naotsugu’s been glued to that boy since he was born,” she murmured, finally glancing over to look at her husband. “Do you think he would be willing to part with him?”

And Muneshige and Ginchiyo met each other’s eyes, both knowing that it was the only chance they would get.


	12. Decisions

Muneshige knocked twice on the open shouji door to find his brother cradling his baby in his arms, and Naotsugu’s head jerked up, breaking his concentration. He nearly said hello, but his son was sleeping soundly, and he knew he’d feel guilty if he woke him. Muneshige seemed to understand, and knelt beside where Naotsugu was sitting to look at his nephew. “He’s… he’s quite handsome, Naotsugu.”

Naotsugu smiled widely. “Isn’t he…?” He laughed a little bit before adding, “Golly, I can’t believe he’s going to grow up and be as tall as we are someday.” Muneshige’s face remained dour when he would normally have at least cracked a smile, and Naotsugu almost wanted to ask why, but elected to keep his concern silent. It was only a few days since Ginchiyo’s incident—Naotsugu figured Muneshige would still be rather shaken by it. He knew he would himself.

He noticed, though, for a moment, Muneshige forced a smile. “May I…?”

“Of course,” Naotsugu replied, still slightly confused, and handed the baby over to his brother. “Mind his head, there…” he added, just to make sure Muneshige knew.

He found his brother staring wistfully at his son, and the boy didn’t stir in the slightest, still fast asleep in Muneshige’s arms. “He’s so small…” was all he could manage. Naotsugu furrowed his brow. His brother was so close to this. He’d had it torn away from him before he was able to grasp hold of it.

“Look, he likes you already,” Naotsugu murmured, a light, airy chuckle trilling from his throat. “Everyone else woke him right up and he’d start crying until I held him again.” Muneshige forced a laugh, which trailed off into a deep sigh before he handed his nephew back to Naotsugu.

“…Listen.” Muneshige began, staring at a spot on the ground in front of him. “I need to talk to you about something very important.”

Naotsugu raised a brow, taking a breath as a heavy silence spread over them. Finally he decided to respond. “…Is everything okay, brother?” And Muneshige didn’t even look at him. “Is it Ginchiyo?” he probed, leaning in a bit. “She should be fine as long as she drinks plenty of water—”

“Well…” Muneshige cut him off, though it wasn’t his intention, and they both paused for a moment before Muneshige continued. “In part, I suppose you could say it’s about her.” He let out a drawn out sigh and shook his head, crossing his arms and leaning back against the wall. “It pains me to do this, Naotsugu, it really does.”

Pains him…? Whatever could he mean by that…? Naotsugu furrowed his brow and cleared his throat for a moment before speaking up. “Muneshige, you’re making me real nervous… what’s this all about…?”

“We’ve… decided to give up.” He muttered, quietly enough that Naotsugu could only just barely understand him.

Muneshige had never said that before. It perked Naotsugu’s nerves even more, to hear his brother so defeated. If Ginchiyo were here, he knew she’d slap him upside the head for even thinking about the words ‘giving up’. “G-give up…? Give up on what…?”

Muneshige took a deep breath, mulling over the words in his head. “Trying to have one of our own,” He sighed. “Ginchiyo was devastated. I was devastated. And I’m not putting her through that again. I can’t do it.” Naotsugu flashed back in his mind to that moment a few days ago. He’d seen blood before, obviously, but tending to a wounded soldier and tending to Ginchiyo that night… they were worlds apart. Muneshige seemed shaken by it since it happened, with good reason. Naotsugu himself was terrified—he couldn’t imagine what Muneshige went through, let alone Ginchiyo.

“I understand…” he finally replied, his brow furrowing and his eyes naturally resting on his son. “But… but what about the Tachibana?”

Muneshige inhaled sharply, finally managing to look at his little brother. “That’s what I came to speak with you about.” Naotsugu nearly responded before Muneshige added, “And… and before I start, I want to stress that this is entirely your decision, okay? This is up to you to decide. I’m not forcing you into anything.”

Naotsugu could only manage raising a confused eyebrow. “…Okay…”

“We’d…like to train Tadashige.”

Naotsugu perked his brow, slightly taken aback; he’d never expected this. All he could manage was to stammer out, “T-train Tadashige…?

Muneshige nodded, still looking him directly in the eye. “That’s right.” Muneshige’s eyes rested on the baby in Naotsugu’s arms, and he found no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t break his eyes away. “He’s strong and healthy, and… we may never get another chance again.” He just stared at this little boy, long enough that even Muneshige began to wonder what he was searching for in the peaceful sleeping face of this baby in his brother’s arms. “So for the sake of the Tachibana, I’d… I’d like to ask to adopt your son.”

Naotsugu remained silent, mulling over Muneshige’s words. The silence that followed wasn’t exactly awkward—but it was uncomfortable.

“I understand that this is a difficult decision to make,” Muneshige continued. “Which is why I’m leaving it entirely up to you.”

It was a moment before Naotsugu could even begin to formulate what to say in response to his brother. All he could think about what their father had told them before he had let them go. Joun had given them only one thing when his boys were adopted into the Tachibana: not advice, so much as a set of orders that they had to follow at all costs. _“Your sole duty is not to me, and it is not to each other,”_ he had said. _“It is to the Tachibana.”_ Those words played over and over again in Naotsugu’s head before he took a deep breath and attempted to formulate a response to Muneshige.

“Do you remember what father told us before we came to the castle?”

“He would surely be cross in the next world had I forgotten, Naotsugu.”

“So you understand, then… my first duty is to the Tachibana. And…” Naotsugu swallowed, but trailed off.

Muneshige bowed his head. “I understand, Naotsugu. You don’t have to do this.”

“No, I do. For the Tachibana, I do.” Naotsugu bit his lip. “And I would be proud to see him become a great leader. And I can’t think of two better teachers than you and Ginchiyo.”

Muneshige couldn’t help but crack a slight smile, but his eyes still clouded over with concern for his brother. “Thank you, brother. But… you have something on your mind still. I can tell. I want to hear your concerns.”

There was a brief pause as Naotsugu got his thoughts together. Muneshige only patiently waited for an answer and prepared for whatever Naotsugu might say. “…You know,” he finally began. “After that Mariko girl got here and we talked and played games together, I thought maybe I wouldn’t be so nervous about Tadashige. But now that he’s here… gosh, I’m starting to realize more and more that parenthood is terrifying.”

Even through his preparation, Muneshige still had no idea what to say. “Naotsugu…”

The younger brother shook his head and continued. “Like… what if I get startled like I always do, and I accidentally drop him? Or what if he gets sick and I can’t help him despite being a medic…?” His voice shook and broke. “I’m clumsy, I’m not all that smart…”

Muneshige’s brow furrowed, and he put his hand on his brother’s shoulder. “Naotsugu, stop this—” but his protests were drowned out by Naotsugu’s words, determined to finish saying his piece, and Muneshige withdrew, allowing him to finish.

“I can’t be a father that this little guy can look up to. Flat out, I’m not the man for the job. But… gosh, you’re amazing, brother. You’re kind, you’re brilliant, and you’re strong… heck, they even call you the Valiant of Chinzei, don’t they…? You’re a man for me and everyone else here to hold in high regard. I can’t be that for him… and I love both him and the Tachibana enough to want what’s best for both of them. And… and that’s why…” His voice cracked, and he had to clear his throat and take a deep breath before giving Muneshige his request, one that he honestly wasn’t sure Muneshige would honor. “I want him to grow up with you and Ginchiyo as his father and mother.”

Muneshige’s eyes widened and his brow furrowed. He didn’t expect that at all, but he was positive Naotsugu was serious. He couldn’t ever joke about that with this much vulnerability. And for the first time in months, maybe even years, the greatest warrior in the West was rendered speechless. He had even forgotten how to breathe for a moment. “N-Naotsugu…” he began. “I really want you to consider what you’re doing. And you know I can’t stand it when you speak about yourself that way, brother. I brag about you all the time—”

“No.” The uncharacteristically firm response silenced Muneshige for a moment. “Muneshige, I… I know you’ll be a better father than I ever could be.”

Muneshige leaned in, trying to plead with his brother. “I can still be his uncle, Naotsugu. Please don’t do this to yourself.”

“I’ve thought about this, brother. I’ve been running it all inside my head for days upon days upon days. I know I can’t be a father that he can be happy with.” Naotsugu’s eyes never left his son, still sleeping soundly in his arms. “You and Ginchiyo will push him forward. I would just hold him back. I let my nerves get the best of me way more often than I should, and that’s not something that a leader should do.”

Muneshige narrowed his eyes, gripping his brother’s shoulder in an effort to beg him to reconsider. “That is utter nonsense. I’ve seen you take down entire regiments in battle, I’ve seen you stitch up wounded soldiers in the blink of an eye, I’ve seen your determination to protect those that are dear to you.” He had to take a breath to keep his voice even. “You’re my brother,” he murmured. “And I know you’re so much more than the nervous wreck you pretend to be.”

“That may be…” Naotsugu began, trailing off slightly, knowing that he didn’t believe a word of what Muneshige had just said. “I want you to adopt my son. I want you to train him to be the best he could possibly be,” he asserted, so much more forcefully than usual. At the sound of his voice, Muneshige withdrew from him, folding his hands and listening intently. “My boy is going to be a great man with you guiding him, I know it.” And Naotsugu flashed him his characteristically wide smile that Muneshige could never help but return.

“Brother…” Muneshige’s face softened. “I promise to make you proud. But I want to ask you one more time.” The stare that Naotsugu’s brother gave him sent a chill down his spine, but he knew that this had to be done. “Are you sure you want to do this…?”

“… His mother died giving birth to him, you know.” He had to take a breath at the death of his wife—Naotsugu loved her, and Muneshige knew how much. And when Naotsugu continued, he listened silently. “He… if I don’t do this, he’ll have nobody else but me. This little life rests on my shoulders and… and gosh, I know that I’m not prepared for all of this. I want him to grow up surrounded by family, and with a mother and a father and an uncle who love him dearly.” He met Muneshige’s stare with a soft, gentle one of his own. “And maybe someday, when I’m really ready, I’ll be able to take care of someone so fragile.”   

Muneshige inhaled deeply, giving his brother a genuine smile. “Thank you, Naotsugu. The Tachibana will revere your dedication forever, I know it.”

Naotsugu laughed lightheartedly, the nervousness that usually showed through in his voice whenever he spoke to people having completely dissipated. “Oh, come on. I was never meant to be anyone’s hero.”

And Muneshige only smiled, placing a gentle hand on Naotsugu’s shoulder again. And he said with all the conviction he could portray, “You’re _my_ hero.” And at that, Naotsugu stroked his son’s cheek, and looked up to give Muneshige a warm smile.


	13. Epilogue

Tadashige had grown into a strong young boy—just as adventurous as Muneshige, just as prideful as Ginchiyo. He’d often go on little strolls by himself until sunset, picking up a fallen branch and swinging it around like a sword, and playing pretend to his heart’s content. Ginchiyo’s love of animals had been passed down as well, so on this particular outing it wasn’t exactly surprising when he noticed a dog ambling by and it caught his attention. Enough, in fact, that he didn’t realize he’d walked right into someone until he took an immediate step back and fell on his rear end. Around turned a beautiful young woman—Tadashige was stricken with her for a moment before managing to stammer out, “I-I’m so sorry, miss, I didn’t even see you there.”

The woman merely smiled, offering the boy a hand. “I should have been watching where I was going. Are you hurt?”

“Oh no, I’m fine…” Tadashige took her hand, pulling himself up and dusting off his _hakama_. “But really, I should be asking you the same thing.”

The woman’s smile never faded, and she just lightheartedly laughed Tadashige’s concern away. “Don’t worry about it,” she reassured him, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. There was a brief pause for a moment as the woman narrowed her eyes slightly and raised an eyebrow. “…You look… familiar somehow.”

He hadn’t recalled meeting her before. Was she mistaken? Of course, being the heir to the Tachibana, it wasn’t like people he’d never met would be unable to recognize him. Instead he just decided to play along. “Really? Have we met?”

“Oh, no,” the woman giggled. “But I was actually thinking that you look very much like the Lord of Mt. Tachibana castle.”

Tadashige had always been complimented on his resemblance to Muneshige. It always brought a smile to his face—after all, who wouldn’t swell with pride at resembling their hero? Tadashige gave the woman a wide grin. “He’s my father! And my mother is Lady Ginchiyo. Do you know them?”

The woman returned his smile. “I met them once when I was young, about ten or so years back,” she explained. Ten years. That seemed like a lifetime for Tadashige, and he perked his brow and listened even more closely. “During a horrible storm, I’d gotten separated from my father, and Lord Muneshige and Lady Ginchiyo let me stay with them until they found him. I owe a lot to them.”

Tadashige nodded. “I see, miss. I owe a lot to them too, so I’m trying my best to make the Tachibana proud when it falls on me to get things done.”

She simply smiled a bit wider, almost seeming as though she herself was proud of him. It was actually rather nice, Tadashige thought, that a woman like this would be so kind to a stranger. And… goodness, she was gorgeous. Her skin seemed porcelain, her eyes shone a brilliant blue, and Tadashige couldn’t help but feel warm and content at the sight of her gentle smile. “That’s a good philosophy,” she chuckled. “And you don’t need to call me ‘miss’. My name is Mariko. What’s yours?”

Tadashige bowed deeply. “I’m Tachibana Tadashige. It’s nice to meet you, Mariko.”

“It’s nice to meet you too.” She looked up for a moment, seemingly lost in thought. Tadashige tilted his head slightly, about to ask what was on her mind, but before he could, she spoke again. “…By the way, I’d met Naotsugu as well during my time there. How is his child? He hadn’t been born yet when we met.”

Tadashige raised an eyebrow. Uncle never mentioned having a baby at one time. There wasn’t any indication that he’d ever had, but Tadashige didn’t trust his memory on these things. Adults usually tended to be right anyway. “I don’t have any cousins by Uncle Naotsugu, as far as I know,” Tadashige muttered in response, a finger to his chin. Kobayakawa Motofusa had had a son, but they never spoke, and as far as Tadashige understood, Muneshige and Motofusa weren’t _really_ brothers. More like close friends. So, of course, ‘cousin’ was a bit of a strong word for Tadashige. He’d seemed to have inherited Ginchiyo’s pompousness and rejection of anyone without true Tachibana blood as a member of the main family until they proved themselves. “I don’t remember ever having any cousins, now that I think about it. That’s sad. He probably died when I was still really young.”

Mariko frowned slightly, furrowing her brow. “That’s really disheartening,” she sighed, putting her hands on her hips. “I know how excited he was.”

“He’s still a great uncle though,” Tadashige rubbed the back of his neck, letting out a slightly forced laugh. “Sometimes he’s almost like my second father.”

Mariko’s smile returned, and Tadashige managed to untense his muscles at the sight. “Well, that’s good at least.” Taking a step backward, she added, “Anyway, I’m sorry to cut our conversation short, but my husband and my daughter are waiting for me. Tell your mother and father hello for me?”

“Okay, for sure I will.” Tadashige smiled, and as she jogged off to catch up with her family, he realized he’d forgotten to be polite. “It was nice meeting you!” he yelled out after her, and when she didn’t respond at first, he frowned, but his lips quirked slightly when he saw her turn around and wave goodbye.

***

“Mother?” Tadashige edged in through the _shouji_ door to find his mother studiously marking some documents before looking over in his direction.

“Oh, Tadashige. I didn’t expect you back from your daily romp until sunset. Good. Your father has a swordplay lesson lined up for you, and I was planning on tracking you down.” She stood, approaching her boy, and ruffled his hair.

He attempted to smooth out his messy light brown hair to no particular avail, so he just settled for tightening the tie holding his rather long hair back. “Well… usually, yes, ma’am,” he cleared his throat slightly before bowing deeply to his mother. “But I’d just met someone and I was told to give you a message.”

Ginchiyo narrowed her eyes, crossing her arms. Exactly what she always did when he was in trouble, and he shrank slightly. Ginchiyo had always told him that he had a habit of running his mouth that could get him into a lot of trouble—and she knew, because she had the same habit. She’d scolded him before for being too friendly towards strangers. _A bit of aloofness never hurt anyone,_ she’d told him. _I don’t want you getting hurt by someone you mistrusted._ Of course, a completely valid criticism, and Tadashige knew that, but it didn’t stop him from naturally exchanging words with the local shopkeepers and weaponsmiths. They always had interesting things to say. But still his mother looked as though she was about to admonish him, and he knew exactly what she was about to say. “…Tadashige, what have we told you about strangers? Time and time again, your father and I have told you to be cautious. What if this person was dangerous? You’re the heir to one of the most powerful and prestigious clans in the land. What if it was a Shimazu ninja in disguise?”

“B-but…” he stammered out, and before he could continue, she shot him a look that in and of itself reprimanded him for talking back. But still, he wanted to know more about Mariko. “It was a woman, and she said she knew you.”

Ginchiyo sighed. “Many people claim to know me, dear…” but she trailed off at the determined look in his eyes. _Damn, you really want to give me that message._ “Fine, fine,” she ceded, rolling her eyes and nodding him over as she walked back to sit down at the table with her. Political documents littered the surface, and Ginchiyo’s tea sat half-drank, untouched, and getting colder by the moment; as he knelt at the table across from his mother, Tadashige stared at it, only realizing then how dry his mouth was. Ginchiyo traced his line of sight, and once she realized what her son was looking at, she picked up the cup and handed it to him. “Here, you look thirsty.”

“Thank you, mother.” He started to chug it before Ginchiyo cleared her throat, and he immediately apologized and settled for just sipping on it instead.

“So then,” Ginchiyo set down a piece of parchment with ‘directives apropos monetary and trade security after reacquisition of Tachibana lands from the Shimazu’ written on it, whatever that meant, and her slightly rushed but still rather neat handwriting on the margins. “Who was this woman, and what did she want to tell me?” She set down her brush and folded her hands, expecting some form of pushback from some poor fool who didn’t understand politics and economics.

Tadashige took another sip of tea and set the cup down. “Well, actually, all she really wanted me to tell you was hello.”

Ginchiyo perked an eyebrow, pursing her lips in annoyance. “Hello, huh...? That’s the big important message? Look, Tadashige, I love you, but you can’t interrupt me like this when I’m looking at these documents. They’re all very important.”

“I know that, mother, but…”

“If you want to be near me so badly, you can sit with me while I look them over. Perhaps it would be a good opportunity for a politics lesson—”

“The message isn’t what interested me in her, though.” Tadashige managed to protest, and Ginchiyo would have chastised him for interrupting her if she wasn’t honestly curious as to what he meant. “See, she said she met you when she was a child and that you saved her life. I kind of wanted to hear the story.”  

“Is that so…?” Ginchiyo put her finger to her chin in thought. She’d done so many things to get children out of danger in the years she was leading the clan, it was hard to place names and such. But, nonetheless, she figured she’d humor him and go along with it anyway, returning her attention back to the parchment she’d set down. “What was her name?”

“Mariko, she said.”

Ginchiyo’s head immediately raised from the document, her brows raised, and the corners of her lips gradually raising into a smile. “…Hah. That’s a name I haven’t heard in a while.” Tadashige brightened and went from kneeling to sitting with his legs crossed; she must have been really special for Ginchiyo to remember her after all this time. Tadashige couldn’t even remember back ten years… of course, obviously it wasn’t shocking to him that he couldn’t considering that was a year shy of his lifetime, but he couldn’t even remember what it was like to be a baby. Strange that Ginchiyo immediately knew who it was. “How is she?”

Tadashige searched his mind for anything that might be relevant to her… so he just told her the whole story. From going out in the morning and seeing the dog, to bumping into her, and everything else she’d told him. “She told me she has a daughter and a husband… oh, and I forgot, but she’s _beautiful_ , mother! I’ve never seen a woman who looked so pretty… well, I mean, aside from you.”

Ginchiyo scoffed, her lips quirking into a smirk. “Ah, empty attempts at charm. You’re so much like your father.” She trailed off into a wistful silence for a moment before looking back at Tadashige with a warm smile, one so rare for his mother. “…I’m happy to hear it, nonetheless. It’s been years. I’m surprised she remembers me.”

“She told me how you and Father rescued her,” Tadashige mentioned. “You both are so impressive… I want to be exactly like that one day!”

Ginchiyo could only smile, inching herself around the table to sit next to him, wrapping an arm around him and kissing the top of his head. “You’re a Tachibana, dear. It’s in your blood.” Tadashige returned her smile, leaning into his mother as she took a deep breath. “So then, you’d like to hear the story?”

“Yes, please, mother.”

“Hah. Alright,” Ginchiyo chuckled, content in leaving some parts out, but smiling widely at the memory of what brought her here, with her son—a son who was just as much hers if she had given birth to him herself—and a proud clan to lead, with not a worry in her mind about its future.


End file.
